Midnight Boy
by The One and Only Featherhead
Summary: Motoko Loreiyn is a girl who decided to move away from the busy life in New York, to the even more surreal world of Tokyo. Where she could continue her work in photography while subliminally trying to elope away from her horrific childhood and psychedelic
1. Preface

He wasn't the kind of man who would have a social life. He was ignorant, egotistical, and at times, savage. But even though he may be a beast, doesn't her deserve to live? Do I deserve to live?

Who are you?

Who am I? Who…_am _I?


	2. Discovery

Stepping off the Metro Train at the stop, Motoko Loreiyn entered into the Tokyo Train Station, where the stereotypical men in black suits hustled in dense crowds. It was only Motoko herself, who appeared to be wearing the casual scarlet jacket and navy jeans along with the popular black converses. Her autumn locks of silk rippled from the movement of her body whilst she was walking, collecting two heavy suitcases from the trunk and then dragging the fabricated weights slowly yet steadily down the `99' steps to the ground floor.

The place was fairly crowded; the setting was plastered in square windows and snow white floor panels with pleading words saying `please don't leave any marks.'

Motoko was happy that she's now in Tokyo. Yet the fact that she was alien to her new community, she tried to make herself feel like a guest in this innovated city.

Outside wasn't too bad, yet they did have the original yellow taxis like they had when she lived in New York. A sigh of relief was exhaled from her lips, as she saw at least one of the mini-cabs free from any other passengers. She simply let herself in, politely asking the driver if he could help her with the rest of her luggage, knowing of course she could speak a fair amount of Japanese herself. Then requesting her destination, the driver took off onto the motorway with the rest of the mechanical herd racing down the tarmac tongue of the road.

Silent minutes came and went as Motoko remained staring softly pass the looking glass of the window which kept her distant from the wonderland outside. The tall towers of electric colours shone out from their glass bulbs and concrete walls. The city itself seemed to have a more colourful range of humans; there were boys with fiery sparks of cerulean in their thick-gelled hair, girl with piercings that would make you feel the sense of needles giving you adrenaline rushes, and fashion tastes that go beyond the mainstream millennium. Tokyo was the new generation of human psyche. The suit she showed explained it all; it would be the perfect utopia for anyone who is casted out from the typical, conventional society, or in her case, one of the best places for her photography.

Maybe moving to Tokyo made Motoko feel more comfortable since the style did suit her personality; bubbly, out-going, spirited. But it was a universal fact that behind every innocent child preyed a dark, seductive creature lusting after fantasies you would rather shut up.

However, even though dusk was approaching, Motoko was still hypnotised by the circular hues and crazy anime pop-ups, flashing in and out on the streets; the markets were flourished with exotic flowers from the south, and music prone to the crowd with teenage school girls in long white socks, Motoko had a bit of a friendly fetish with long socks, especially the way they stretched and spread the cotton fabric smoothly over her shins, knees and thighs.

Anyway, the repetition of vibrant images encircled in her head countless times, over, and over again.

Night drew over the sky. The moon was thick and white that night, but Motoko finally reached her destination along with her luggage close to her sides as the taxi drove away with its hard-earned cash. And there she stood facing her new home. The apartment block was at least 3 storeys high, quite plain on the outside, but it would do, Motoko would have to cope for now until she raised more money to find an even better home. Then, grabbing onto the handles of her luggage, she skidded her baggage against the grit of the road and passed the wooden door, where past that, was painted an image of a wide pathway, with a pattern of grey doors with metal-plated numbers pressed against the wood and nailed. This made Motoko reach down into her tight jean pockets and pull out a metal strand with Aztec patterns carved in, and a plastic key ring with the number `93' imprinted on it. 93. She must be on the top floor, which would mean, another `99' steps…upwards, for Motoko. Oh well, it would have done her some good on her skinny arms. Since there was no elevator, all the young redhead could do was strain herself to the top; she wasn't going to give up without a fight. Step by step, she steadily and stably brought her luggage to the final level. Again, there was a flickering with pale light bulbs like on the first and second floor…wait, the second floor didn't have a lot of lighting, in fact, and it was pitch black at the far corner…must have been a faulty circuit. Nevertheless, she finally heaved her goods towards the door with `93' imprinted on it, and there with the key, she unlocked her new home.

Inside was small; there was a large bedroom with a small TV sitting on top of a desk with a plant on the side. Between the hallway on the left, laid a bathroom with a blurry shower curtain, and a tiled desk with a sink dug out in the middle and a mirror swept across the front for her to face in a fair distance from. And on the right, a narrow kitchen with a worktop on one side and another washing sink and washing machine on the other. Most of this apartment was covered in grey, black and white, the only imagination, laid what was behind those curtains of the main window. After dropping her goods and locking the door behind her, she used her white fingers to drape open the blinds, and only to witness, what appeared to be, another fantastic view of the city. Bright lights, colourful people, amazing surrealism it was all Motoko could have hoped for.

10:39 PM. Motoko was boiling water in a kettle for her chicken and mushroom noodles in a pot. Her cell phone was left out in the open as if she was expecting a call from someone. In order to make herself feel more snug, she redressed into a humongous blue blouse with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and black short-shorts with white furry socks that were pushed down to her shins. Then the cell rang. Just a harmless melody. Seconds later, she hurriedly rushed into the kitchen to pick it up, only to hear a familiar friend.

"Hello?"

"_Motoko, its Katy here."_

"Hi Katy!"

"_How was the trip?"_

"Oh, it was tiring, but I managed to get my new flat without a fuss."

"_And how's Tokyo? Does it look as good as you imagined it?"_

"It's beyond amazing, I can tell you that."

"_Wow, you're gonna have to send me a few photo's. So, this is how you're gonna start you're new life?"_

"It looks like it. I can't wait to start shooting."

"_What about you're new take on you social life? You know Motoko, you're 21 years old and you still don't have a boyfriend."_

"Oh, stop it Katy."

"_It's true though!" Katy joked on the other line._

"Katy, remember when we're both 15?"

"_Yeah?"_

"And we both joked about boy's dicks and made pranks like making them think that their cock lengths are small by sticking a photo of us laughing in their bathrooms?"

"_Yeah! That was hilarious."_

"Yeah, that might be why I don't have a boyfriend." A moderate roar of laughter choked down on the other line that made Motoko squint her eyes and hold the phone away from her ear.

"Don't die (!)" She sarcastically commented.

"_But seriously Motoko; 21, you must have at least some sexual drive in your system."_

"I'm not desperate!"

"_I know you're not, but, there will be someone who will spark your interest."_

"Well, I haven't had a boyfriend since…"  
_"Oh…"_ Their cheeriness faded in a moment_. "How are you going to cope…trying to pass that?"_ A sigh drew from Motoko's lips, as she pressed the phone to her ear by her shoulder and held her ready noodles in a pot, when she then sat down on her bed and let her back rest on the grey pillows.

"I don't know Katy; I'm just going to have to move on. I mean, it's been 8 years."

"_Well, good luck to you."_  
"Thanks." Motoko painted a frail smile on her lips.

"_Aw crap, I got to go, but anyway, I'll try to call you tomorrow. Same time yeah?"_

"Yeah."  
_"Bye babe."_

"Bye." She hung up on the line. Another sigh respired into the air, as the young girl placed her phone onto the cabinet and stared into her pot of instant noodles.

12:17 AM. She left the window open a little bit, as she lay in her bed stillborn, staring at the ceiling. It was strange. First she was this energetic girl desperate to discover the world, the next it was is if she was dead. This wasn't what came to mind. Not at all. She thought that coming to Tokyo would make things a little bit more lighter, but, oh boy, she will have a lot of things crashing down upon her; just she wait.


	3. Loiter

9:07 AM. Perfect start for the morning, even though looking outside, Motoko thought that the city looked a lot more like New York on the morning side. It seemed the night life adventure sparked off a few lights of entertainment for adrenaline rushers.

She was finally here; slept one full night in her new apartment, and ready to boost her photography career. She was always into vibrant portraits when it came to taking a snap of a landscape. Nothing must be monotonous and nothing must be still. Even taking a simple picture within the public crowd can be transformed into a magnificent illustration of modern art. After all, a picture tells us a thousand words, doesn't it?

Rising from her covers with her straw copper hair misshapen by subconscious movement in her dreams, the young girl contently walked over to the bathroom, where in the mirror, she saw her soft peachy skin smeared across her body, and her pale green eyes of jade reflected back into her vision. Hm. Mother's eyes, she thought. But the comment made her feel pessimistic again, like the moment she just had between her Katy the last night. Trying to shake it out of her mind, she walked over to her bath and turned on the hot water. Then slowly undressing herself from her overbearing blouse and shorts, letting them slide off her skin like silk and spreading themselves onto the floor, she then dipped herself into her sigh of relaxation, giving the water permission to embrace her naked body and exhaling steam into her lungs. After moments of tranquillity, Motoko slowly dozed back into a resting stage of being awake and being drifted back into the dream world. Being in between would be sufficient. Floating in her pool of refreshment, she laid there, in a silent position. Sleeping. Still.

But things took a turn.

She woke up again. Looking at the ceiling, the colour was supposed to be white, not grey. She looked around. Still naked in the bath, only…it wasn't the same bath. Staring at herself, she also realised that her fatigue was younger; her breasts were small and her thighs were skinnier than she last remembered.

Motoko then risen from her bath as to which the water turned darkly cold. Letting a few seconds go to let the droplets run from her shoulders to the ground, she then located a towel sitting on a balcony and wrapped it around her damp skin. The air in the bathroom was bleak and blurred as nearly every single object –even the bath water- was dull grey. She turned her head to the mirror on her side, where condensation still lingered on the cold, pale face of the reflecting glass. She pressed onto the cool surface with her palm and wiped away the damp moisture, to reveal the young girl that she was. Only at 13 years of age.

Her hair had a bit more blonde in it than now, and her skin was even paler as if the happiness from her cheeks were smeared away in the bath water, just like the surroundings, even her frail body was a grey manikin of seclusion. Her eyes of sorrow continued to glare back at her white face, when then it was abruptly cut off by a clean stack of a folded t-shirt and shorts, no underwear. It didn't matter. After she thought she was dry enough, she released her towel; letting it drop to the floor, she then took the pile of clothes she must have placed there herself; she was always so organised, and so quiet. Dressing her nude body with the clothes provided, she then slowly and frailly unlocked the door in her square cubicle bathroom, and let the door creak into the empty hallway of her childhood home.

Even though there was no breeze, the chill from her scratched walls sent shivers down her spine. Staring outside from the bathroom; she finally too her first step out. Every step she planted, the despair of no emotion shining in her eyes only made her feel more depressed. Looking down the wide hallway, she noticed family portraits stitched onto the walls; her as a newborn, Mom and Dad at their wedding, the family together when she was six, another one of her parents in San Juan Puerto Rico for their 7th anniversary. Happy Memories. Happy Plastic Memories.

Still, the blank face refused to leave from Motoko's presence. But, as her dead reflections of the past only brought her grief inside, another room stood at the end of the hallway. The door was closed. But creaking was still present/ Slow creaking. Her curiosity began to grow, as Motoko tool a few more silent steps forward. What could be on the other side of that door? Finally she grabbed hold of the door knob. She paused for a moment, before exhaling, she forcefully twisted the knob, shutting her eyes tight and pushed the door away. And when she opened her eyes, a bright light shone out…

Something made Motoko wake up again, in her normal state; her hair still darker than before in her teens, and her body remained mature yet young. Thank God.

Fortunately, the water was still warm and steamy, so she continued to wash herself to her cheery content, forgetting what occurred in her head just then. Afterwards, she ripped open the curtains through a split of light glistening out from the sky. It was wonderful. Just looking at the city, could be he only satisfaction in life. However, in order to help her photography career to continue to pursue high profit, she needs to upgrade her brain for new information and skills. And there was only one place where she could study; Tokyo University. Thankfully enough, one of the other reasons why she moved to Tokyo was that she already received a place their instead of going to Harvard, no matter how good the education was over in America, she just couldn't miss out on her big chance to change her life for good.

11:21 AM. She needed to get to the University at 12:00 PM to get her enrolment fixed and ready. Covering her white laced bra and panties with a cream t-shirt plastered with designs of pink and teal paint splats on it, and black skinny jeans with her favourite converses, along with a dark violet jacket and her pale green rucksack, she was ready to make a leave. Locking her apartment door with her key, she walked down the concrete hallway to the stairs. She took another sneaky look at the second floor; the light was able to glow down the corridor, but it was still shadowy at the very end. Why was that? Never mind. She had to go.

Taking the taxi to enhance her speed to the University, she gazed once more at the city inside as the people scurried themselves to their offices and stations. They're like insects, she thought. What a funny way to picture people.

Later on, she ultimately reached her new destination at the University. It looked like any University in the world; the only difference was, of course, it was in Tokyo. All she could ever think about was its location; it had to be somewhere where she can relate to on a great basis. Motoko took her first step into the entrance and saw the wide corridor out front. On the right was the reception; she popped her head around the corner and asked for an assistant; she had tight black hair tied back into a bun, wearing a grey stitched suit with a skirt and her eyes were thinly lined with black eye-liner.

"May I help you?" The lady automatically spoke English as Motoko's appearance may have given away her half Caucasian heritage.

"I'm looking for the Photography zone for my enrolment."  
"You'll need to go to the Art and Design centre, which is down this corridor and then turn left, you should find a sign that will lead you to the photography centre."

Her English was very good; no wonder why the University hired her to be a receptionist. So Motoko acted into the direction where she was told to go; down the corridor, taking a left turn, and then find the sign 'Photography' on either a wall or a door. She found it, and entered into the room.

On the first step, her heart began to beat a little faster and her cheeks turned flourished slightly; the rest of the other students were already there, and she was the only one late. Great one Motoko. What a fantastic start to her new Uni.

"Ah. You late, no?" An old man standing up, with thick glasses and a beige button shirt spoke in a rusty English language.

"Yes…sorry." She tried to chuckle it off, but still left the rest of the students staring at her; just like being the new kid in the class. She found that they were all sitting at a table; a spare one was found at the back, so she quietly took her place there; releasing her rucksack and secretly letting her fringe cover up most of her face to avoid getting spotted with rosy cheeks. The old man must have been the tutor to the group, as he gave her an enrolment sheet for her to fill in.

The end of the lesson came as the tutor finished his 3 hour lecture on what was expected in the course. Motoko never heard such information coming out from one human being in her life; bored and interested at the same time. Hm. Funny mixture. Hence, Motoko made her way out, as the other students, she still felt guilty and embarrassed from being the last girl to enter the class. But that was then irrupted as she was accidentally nudged by another girl.

"Sorry." Motoko depressingly apologised.

"Don't be. It was my fault." The other girl had a short bob of hair, mixed with black and dark electric violet, she was wearing a black vest with a lilac blouse swathed with lightening strikes, and her skinny jeans were black and with Vans trainers mixed with black, again, and pink and blue. Her make-up matched her fashion; thick black eye-liner, vague silver eye shadow, colourless lip gloss, and both ears pierced with studs and hoops.

"Hey…you just moved into the old apartment block, haven't you?"

"Yeah, how'd you figured?"

"I spotted you straining up the stairs." Oh great! Once again, Motoko was the public's clown. "I would have said hi, but I had work to do."  
"Oh, it was late anyway."

"My name's AJ." AJ. What an unusual name spelled out by initials.

"Is that short for anything?"

"No. Just AJ." Her voice lowered a little as if she always got pissed off with anyone asking 'Is that short for anything?'

"I won't ask THAT again then." AJ's expression lightened up again.

"I'm Motoko. Motoko Loreiyn."

"Whoa, I didn't ask for a life story." She teased. "Nah, just kidding. I'll just call you Motoko Loreiyn for now on, shall I?"

"No. JUST Motoko." The redhead toyed with her words as a small gesture of giggles came out from the pair.

"Say, Motoko, it's only 3 PM, do you want to go out to get a bite to eat; I'm meeting some of my friends who also live in the same block as us in a café?"

"Uh…sure, I haven't got anything on my agenda."

"Great! But first I have to do something." Motoko was puzzled, in fact, became even more perturbed when AJ began to encircle her, like a cross examination by eyes only. But then she relaxed. "I think I'll like you." She then linked her right arm into the crooked left of Motoko's. "It's my only way to stop myself being cynical towards new kids."

"O…kay." Motoko decided to shut up now, AJ might be the only girl who could de-alienate her.

They went round into this cute kawaii café with adorable colours of baby pink, orange and blue merged together. They sat down at a table with two more girls. One girl, an original Japanese girl with long dead straight hair called Saeki. The other, an American girl with wavy blonde locks from Colorado called Marissa. They all introduced themselves cheerfully towards Motoko, and they all seemed to get along very well very quickly. That was an ability that Motoko could take into advantage strongly; charisma.

"So you just moved up into the top floor last night?"  
"Yeah; room 93."

"Awesome, we're always looking for new blood." Marissa slithered in a Hannibal Lector tone, yet the joke ended with AJ shoving her harmlessly on her shoulder, as the group laughed quite loudly.

"Which floors do you guys live in them?"  
"Saeki and Motoko live on the first floor in room 17 and 29, and I live in the top floor in room 87." Then Motoko realised something, how none of them live on the second floor. This sparked her to bring up a question.

"Hey…I was wondering…does anyone live on the second floor?" AJ coughed a little, Marissa and Saeki kept quiet.

"Not that I know of." Saeki spoke out.

"That floor is too dark for anyone to live on."

"Except for one." AJ interrupted Marissa.

"'one'?" Motoko urged on.

"Yeah, one. There's a guy who lives at the far end of the floor."  
"You mean that really dark corner?"  
"Yeah, if you ever get to see him that would be the rarest experience you will ever have. He NEVER comes out, not in the daytime at least, but he's not a vampire, that's for sure (!) But I managed to spot him twice since the time I stay in the block. And let me tell you," She pinpointed her vision over at Motoko. "He has got one HOT body. I mean, if the greatest opportunity ever happened to me; I'd fuck him 24/7 for the rest of my life."

"That hot, huh?"

"You betch'ya sweetheart." She winked at her.

"AJ, what about Cane?" Saeki intervened.

"I know, Cane may be the closest thing for a girl such as ourselves to get our panties wet over, but think about it; the forbidden fruit is more intriguing than the accessible one."

"Who's Cane?"

"Oh, you'll be able to see him one day; he too lives in the same block as us, on the first floor. Can't remember which room though."

"He also goes to the University here he goes in on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays, so if you're in tomorrow, you might see him around." Marissa added at the end of AJ's speech.

"Oh, Ok." Motoko added the small gesture at the end.

11:29 PM. AJ and the others took Motoko a colourful tour around the city, especially the cocktail bars, yet Motoko kindly refused the drinks for one night.

"Suit yourself, queer." AJ joked again, as then they all went back to their rooms, yet AJ just needed to collect something from Saeki.

Motoko already made her way up onto the second floor, where once more, it remained dark and blurry. She shook her head in ignorance and looked over to the last set of stairs. But then, a twitch was quivered over at the far corner. The redhead shuddered for a moment and stared into the distance.

"Hello?" She bravely spoke out. But nothing. Even when there was no wind, the shiver still shook her spine, like her mind flash back. Eeriness crawled along the surface of the floor. Silence deafened the midst of the hallway. It felt like the shadows slapped across the walls began to spread like sick fire. A ringing sound spurred in Motoko's ears, as her eyes remained fixated at the dark corner. It continued again…

_Ring._

_Ring._

_Ring._

_Ring._

_Ring._

_Ring._

_Ring…_

"Motoko! What are you staring at?" AJ's interruption shook the redhead a little as she turned around and saw the girl giggling at her slightly. Wow. Someone at around 20 years of age does act like a 10 year old. Maybe that's just the way she wanted to act. All part of punk culture. But when she spotted what Motoko's eyes were prancing at, she looked into the same direction. "Oh…trying to lure him out huh?"

"No, I thought I heard something."

"Don't get too carried away with your head." She then tugged onto Motoko's jacket as they went back up to the top floor, not knowing what she could have heard at the dark corner. She just had to wait. Because she would have no idea of whom she was going to meet.


End file.
